While we were out at the curry house I managed to record two programmes simultaneously on Sky+. Ooh, it's so exciting. One of the programmes I recorded was that night's Prom. It carried on recording after the finish, eventually giving up the ghost after about four and a half hours. I think it must have read the finish time as the finish time of the evening's second, after midnight, broadcast.
I then watched it on Saturday afternoon. I'm not sure what I think of this instant reaction that BBC4 has been running, where you can contact the programme by email or text. Friday night seemed to be just a show of national testosterone as various males - Charlie Hazlewood - metaphorically allowed their tongues to hang out at Anna Netrebko. Not surprisingly - she is a bit of a babe. And I did really like her dress. She's in Rigoletto next year, with Paolo Gavanelli, who is totally fab in the DVD of this production, and Piotr Beczala, about whom I know nothing. The other cast includes Dmitri Hvorostovsky and Rolando Villaz�n. Yum, yum...
I really enjoyed the first half - a nice mix of songs, but I found it very difficult to sit through Shostakovitch's Fifth. I'm trying, honestly, I'm trying, but...
My Lord and Master then watched Crystal Palace lose at Portsmouth. With just one point, they are firmly anchored t the bottom of the Premiership. Of course, he claims it's early yet - last season they looked like being relegated until an amazing late run.
And United are still indifferent. Indeed when Bolton went ahead in injury time I shut my ears to Final Score and deleted my text messages, so it took me half an hour to find out that David Bellion had equalised - although it was originally credited to Smith. It was good to see van Nistelrooy back, even though he looked like a duck out of water (well, makes a change from a horse, then!)
We then settled down for the Last Night of the Proms. We ate dressed crab from the fishmongers, followed by a gorgeous Rick Stein Baked Haddock with mussels and spinach, and roast potatoes. Unintentional entertainment came from Alan Titchmarsh's patronisingly stupid comments. I know Charlie Hazlewood isn't everybody's cup of tea, but his knowledge and enthusiasm is astounding. Titchmarsh assumes that the viewers are all thickos. Perhaps the dolt who put Titmarsh in the presenter's chair thinks the viewers are thickos. It always fascinates me why they put the first half on BBC2 and the second half on BBC1. That having been said, I didn't think the first half was that great a programme. Although Thomas Allen was magnificent in Vaughan Williams' songs.
The second half - accompanied by strawberry cheesecake and fresh strawberries - was to be expected. Half of me really hates it, the other half of me thinks it's all a good laugh. I do wish arseholes like Titmarsh would cut the crap about 'it's not jingoistic, it's not xenophobia, it's just rollicking good patriotism'. Just shut the fuck up Titmarsh. Please allow your viewers to make their own judgements. It's none of them, IMO. It's certainly not patriotism, which, as well as being the last refuge of the scoundrel, is a bit more than waving a flag and having a jolly good sing-song to some old familiars. I found it fun looking at all the different flags on display - as well as the Union flag (did Arsemuch call it the Union Jack - ignorant fucker), and English, Welsh and Scottish flags and the Royal Standard, I also spotted Irish, Manx, French, German, US, Australian, New Zealand, South African, Canadian, Norwegian, and Brazilian. There may have been more.
I did like Thomas Allen's little list (re-written by Kit Hesketh-Harvey) - violinists in wet t-shirts, pianists who retire just because they've got their bus pass and teenagers who can download, email and text without getting out of bed.
On Sunday, whilst eating stilton and broccoli soup, we watched the latest episode of Adam Nicholson's Atlantic Britain, which is a little gem of a TV series. This week it was mysticism in the West of Ireland. Oh did we giggle at these idiots climbing Croagh Patrick in bare feet!
We then watched - salmon en croute for me, moussaka for him, followed by a luscious sherry trifle from Tesco's Finest range - Mystic River. It took a while to get going, and it left me feeling rather uncomfortable and disturbed. I would highly recommend it if you want something a bit more than mental chewing gum. It's the second film we have watched recently starring Sean Penn, the previous being 21 Grams. 21 Grams is a very confusing film, and again, very intelligent and thought provoking. I have to say for years I have dismissed Sean Penn as the former Mr Madge with a reputation for disagreeing with photographers, but if these two films are any indication, he is becoming one of my favourite actors. Mystic River also had excellent performances from Tim Robbins, Kevin Bacon and Laurence Fishburne.
Jimmy then watched The Van, which I had taped for him a few weeks ago. I didn�t - it got just two stars in the Radio Times, and I don't watch 2 star films. It is said to be the least of Roddy Doyle's three filums. Although his watching of the film took until eight o'clock, the start time of a programme I really wanted to watch, I was unperturbed, because I had it recording in Sky+. Then, when he went to bed (and dreamed about vans), I could do a live rewind on the programme I wanted to watch, whilst also having it recorded to the hard drive. I thoroughly enjoyed Domingo - A Musical Life. I'm not divulging what my dreams were last night...
Okay, how many different categories does this post fit into...
